


And When Again It's Morning

by LuthienLuinwe



Series: Whumptober 2018 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Injury, Stabbing, Whumptober 2018, stabbed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 12:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16158743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: Blood. Everywhere. On everything. He couldn’t see straight. The world was spinning around him. What the hell had happened? He didn’t remember. Damian. Evil clone. Blood…God there was so much blood.





	And When Again It's Morning

**“Deep in the meadow, hidden far away, a cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray. Lay down your woes and let your troubles lay, and when again it’s morning, they’ll wash away.”**

Blood. Everywhere. On everything. He couldn’t see straight. The world was spinning around him. What the hell had happened? He didn’t remember. Damian. Evil clone. Blood…

God there was so much blood. 

He slumped forward even before he could process what had happened. There had been a fight. Obviously. Only an idiot would have assumed otherwise. The thing had to have known his armor. But how? There were only a handful of weak spots and weaker plates… He’d always meant to fix those…

“Dick!” a voice screamed, but blood was rushing in his ears. He glanced down, feeling sick when he saw the sword sticking out of his body, coated in a red, sticky substance he tried to pretend wasn’t his blood.

A strangled, gurgling noise escaped his lips when the blade retracted. Strong arms wrapped around him, though he couldn’t quite place who they belonged to, not when his vision was cloudy and spotted and he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep. “Stay awake, kid,” the voice whispered into his ear.

He nodded and tried to say something witty, but the words wouldn’t come out. He tried to take a deep breath, but it caught in his throat, and he sputtered.

Dick whimpered when he felt the person move him so he was lying on his back, head in a lap. He glanced up and tried to clear his vision so he could see only one or Bruce instead of two. “Are you with me?” Bruce asked, and Dick nodded his head slightly, the motion using up every bit of energy he had left. 

Was this what dying felt like? He’d have to ask Jason later, assuming he lived.

He hoped he lived.

“Need to lift him,” another voice said. “Get him to the hospital.”

Dick glanced between Batman and Robin, trying to blink them into focus. He tried to sit up, despite every instinct in his body telling him to stay down, only for Bruce to push him back down.

“Grayson?” Damian asked, and Dick blinked over at him. “I am sorry.”

Dick nodded again. He wanted to tell Damian it wasn’t his fault, that everything was going to be fine. Was everything going to be fine? He doubted it. The words were stuck in his mouth and wouldn’t come forward.  

“Stay with us, Nightwing,” Bruce commanded, and Dick tried to nod, but his head felt like lead. Everything hurt. He just wanted to close his eyes.  _ Stay awake,  _ the voice in the back of his head told him.  _ You sleep, you die. _

He didn’t want to die.

He tried to speak, to crack a joke to lighten the mood. But a sick, sputtering cough formed where words should have been, a bubble of blood popping in his mouth, splattering across his face and suit.

He heard a distressed sound coming from somewhere nearby. The world was spinning too fast, and he could hear his breaths come in wheezes, and he couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t think, and  _ he was going to die. _

“Calm down,” Bruce said, and Dick looked up at him like a scared child. “It’s okay…” Even Dick could hear the lie. A hand was smoothing down his hair, and he shut his eyes, feeling everything grow more and more distant. 

_ Hey Jay, what was dying like? _

_ Not something I want to talk about, Goldie. _

Dick had wondered why Jason never wanted to talk about it. Now, though? Now he understood. Dying wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t calm. It was confusing and terrifying and painful, and he just wanted it to be over with.

“Don’t do this, kid,” Bruce’s voice said, but it was so far away. Muddy, like Dick was hearing everything under water.

He took another broken, shuddering breath.

Another one never came.


End file.
